Root Visits Oxenfurt
by Dovahsdottir
Summary: A short story to test how this site works, and how it formats the stories uploaded to it. Very brief, this doesn't contain any development of character or a plot. It's just a tiny piece I wrote for fun. I will soon be uploading my flagship fan fiction based on the Witcher world created by Andrezj Sapkowski and also inspired by the Witcher games made by CD Projekt Red.


"Dandelion, please! I really want to watch the street show. There's dancers and music. Can I please just go over there while you finish up shopping?"

Root whined again in the bard's ear for the fifth time within the last ten minutes. While being a woman of forty winters, the naive forest maiden, raised in near seclusion, had been as excited as a small child at their first parade since their party had rode into Oxenfurt and she saw the festival going on at the university. She tugged on his magenta colored vest and he sighed.

"Root, no. I promised Geralt and Regis that you would stay with me at all times while they got their shopping done. I know Regis had to get some herbs and stop by the alchemist shop for some good alcohol. And Geralt is getting some new tack and a harness for Roach. I'm almost done. Really."

"But you said that over an hour ago, and you've tried on like fifty different vests." the green eyed woman pouted. I'll just be right over there. I won't..."

The bard sighed. "Root, I can't They'll kill me. Just please. Be patient. Just one more." he said, turning to the elven vendor. "Can I see those boots too?"

From across the way, Root could hear a set of bagpipes begin to warm up and her heart soared. Her father used to play the pipes for her back at the old homestead and she so longed to get a closer look at the musician. But she looked over at Dandelion and slumped down into the cushioned chair near the changing room.

"I'll just be another minute, Roo." he said, pulling the curtain closed.

Root stuck out her tongue, folded her arms and looked out the doorway at the festivities going on. The Oxenfurt university was holding a celebration to honor its foundation, and that evening, as the warm summer sun set into the horizon, the watchmen lit gorgeously designed paper lanterns and folk chatted amiably in the street enjoying complimentary wine and sweets from the school's culinary students. The pipes were joined by a tambourine player, and a retinue of brightly dressed dancers skipped merrily down the street, just outside the door of the shop.

When they'd passed, a richly dressed gentleman stood directly across the way. His black velvet doublet, lined with a double row of military style brass buttons was accented by the short matching capelet about his shoulders. Soft black trousers and dyed black basilisk boots completed his regal appearance. Root had rarely seen such elegance and was surprised to see someone who reminded her of a king standing in the middle of the street. And he was looking directly at her. He smiled, tipped his hat and tugged on a pair of soft calfskin gloves. Root, her heart pounding, followed him with her eyes as he made his way into the throng of others celebrating.

Root glanced at the changing room, and then back outside.

 _It'll just be a minute._ She thought. _He'll never even know I was gone._

Root quietly slipped out of the shop and crossed the street. The summer wind caressed her sun-kissed face and she smiled, tucking a loose strand of her brown hair behind an ear. The music swelled just then and she smiled girlishly and skipped over to wear the bagpiper was playing. The man wore a green and red tartan, a light cotton shirt, and nodded at her, seeing such a happy smile on the lady's face. Root clapped her hands and danced.

When his song was finished, a crowd had formed around her and they applauded politely. Root, having never been the focus of attention flushed deepest red and simply motioned to the piper who gave her a courteous nod.

"That was quite the performance, young lady." spoke a musical voice next to her.

Root turned and looked into the face of the richly clad gentleman.

"Oh," she stammered, taking a half step back. "Thank you."

"You are the lady called Root, yes?" he asked, swirling the dark red wine in a snifter.

Root then recalled Regis' strict instruction to not talk to anyone she didn't know. And Geralt's instruction to never answer anyone's questions, especially if they claimed to know her.

"Someone would like a word with you." the man said with a hint of a smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

"OK, OK I'm all set, Roo. Let me just pay for these new...Roo?" the bard said, stepping out of the changing room, finding the shop empty save for the owner. "Root?"

Dandelion handed his purchases to the clerk. "Watch these. I'll be back."

The brightly dressed bard walked out onto the street and was immediately recognized by a throng of citizens who wanted him to play at the festival. With rising anxiety, he looked over their heads, searching the crowd.

"Dandelion?" spoke the White Wolf's voice from behind.

"Ah, master bard, did you get a look at some new clothing like you wanted? Where's Root?" Regis asked, tucking some newly purchased garlic bulbs into his satchel.

The bard turned, his mouth opened once and the guilt was written on his face.

"Shit. Damn it, Dandelion. We leave her with you for just two hours! You cotton headed, blundering...where is she?" Geralt roared, his golden eyes flashing.

"I don't know." the bard squeaked. "I just. She was here just like ten minutes ago, I swear. She wanted to see the dancing. She's probably by the Skellige piper in the main courtyard, near the fountain."

Regis and Geralt exchanged looks and walked together into the university courtyard.

Root shook her head and refused the man's offer to visit his friend, who he claimed knew her, for about the fifth time. She had been trying to remember her manners and the courtesies that Dandelion had taught her when they'd visited Vizima palace. But the constant pressing to leave the celebration was starting to make her nervous.

"No. I'm waiting for some friends. I...I really should..."

"Root." said the soft voice of Emiel Regis. "Come here, my dear."

The forest maiden turned and saw Geralt, Regis and Dandelion walk up to where she'd been talking to the darkly clad man. He smiled at them, and it was then that Root realized that he did it with pursed lips. She gasped and held onto Regis' arm.

"Good evening, gents." the man said, tipping his hat. "A fine summer night for a drink. Wouldn't you agree? Ah, the great Geralt of Rivia is amongst us. Monsters beware."

"I'm sorry, Regis. I..."

"Hush, Root. Not now." her mate said quietly.

The gentleman's eyebrows went up and he turned his head slowly at that name.

"Regis is it?" he said. "Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy?"

"The same." Regis replied with an incline of his head, returning the man's pursed lip smile.

"Forgive me. I didn't know. Good night, sirs." he replied and left without so much as one more glance at the forest maiden.

Geralt turned his scorching golden gaze onto the bard who seemed to shrink before the great witcher.

"Root, I told you specifically not to wander or talk to others." Emiel said, scolding her gently and holding a hand on her cheek. "Do you know what he wanted?"

"I do now." she said. "But, but, it's just that..."

Root didn't want to get Dandelion in trouble so she just fidgeted with her fingers and chose to be silent about him shopping.

"I'm sorry." she said, tearing up.

"No, Regis, don't blame her. It's my fault. I took too long and I promised her." he said sighing heavily. "This is my fault."

Geralt snorted and growled. "Well, it's done now. Root, not again. Understand? You stay with one of us. Do you see how it took a mere few seconds for you to become a mark? Please, just stay with one of us at all times."

"Yes, White Wolf." she said with a nod. "I will."

Regis kissed her forehead. "Shall we dance then?"

Root smiled again and laced an arm with her mates'. Geralt shot the bard another look and grabbed glass of wine, while Dandelion sat on the edge of the fountain, unable to stop thinking about the fact that his best friend had just been the desired drink of choice of a katakan vampire.

"All over a pair of boots." he said with a sulking smirk.

"You're going to get my boot up your ass if you let her out of your sight again." Geralt complained, nudging him with his elbow. "Here. What's done is done."

Geralt passed the bard a snifter of brandy, and the two watched as Regis and Root danced under the light of a summer full moon.


End file.
